Moonlight (Sherlolly)
by RiverDragonWarrior
Summary: Sherlock is bitten by a mystery animal and Molly might have the answer to his problem, but it comes with a dangerous secret. Sherlock/Molly, slightly jealous Lestrade and annoying Mycroft (when isn't he)
1. Chapter 1

Sherlolly will be in the next few chapters but not this one, just not yet, but it will come.

oOo

Sherlock opened his eyes reluctantly, he was tightly wrapped in a duvet cocoon and he really didn't want to move. The memories of last night's case still fresh in his mind, an all round ordinary case, nothing especially strange or challenging for Sherlock, although being bitten by a rather large and angry dog wasn't very pleasant. But as usual Sherlock ignored it and had planned on calling John in the morning, although now that morning had come he realized that it maybe wasn't such as good idea. He made an attempt to move but as soon as he did a soul destroying headache hit him like a ton of bricks, the only thing he could compare it to was when he was in rehab. After a few minutes of deciding what to do he figured that the best thing to do was get up and call John, he did after all need the dog bite fixing properly.

Sherlock pulled himself from his bed, taking the sheet with him, and limped to the kitchen. He put the kettle on and made some coffee, then swallowed many different types of pain killers. After deciding that his feet were too cold and needed at least three pairs of socks and that eating anything other than tea and coffee would make him throw up he called John.

The phone rang a few times before John picked up.

"John."

"What is it Sherlock?" John answered in a less than actually caring voice.

"Last night I was bitten by a dog, I need you to properly dress my leg." Sherlock said in a rather tired and ill sounding voice.

"Ok you sound terrible, are you feeling ok?" John asked, now a bit more 'actually caring' in his voice.

"I don't need you 'expert medical opinion' I just need you to fix up my leg." Sherlock grumbled down the phone and pulled his none bitten leg up to his chest.

"Your charmingness never ceases to amaze me, Sherlock." John sighed into the phone.

"Charmingness isn't a word John, stop making up words and get to 221b." Sherlock almost ordered down the phone and then hung up before John could protest.

After ten minutes John appeared in the door way and Sherlock looked up, John looked at him. His face even paler than normal, huge bags hung under his eyes and his eyes themselves were swore looking and blood shot.

"I take back what I said before, I do need your expert medical opinion." Sherlock sighed in a hopeless voice as John walked over.

"Have you eaten anything?" John asked, Sherlock clearly wasn't in the mode for chit chat.

"No." Sherlock said. "Didn't stop me throwing up whatever was in my stomach though." He complained.

John sighed, he didn't really know what to say, Sherlock always said he didn't like it when John treated him like a patient. But now did thought he needed to too.

"Well I better see your leg, please tell me you're wearing something under the bed sheet." John said from his chair.

"Stop fussing, of course I'm wearing pyjamas." Sherlock sighed and began staring onto space.

"I wasn't fussing." John argued and moved the sheet on Sherlock's leg, he rolled up his trouser leg and looked at the bite wound.

"Sherlock?" John questioned. "When exactly did you get bitten?"

"Last night I told you, why wants wrong?"Sherlock asked the good doctor and looked down at his leg. In place of the deep teeth marks were newly healed scars that still bared the pink slightly clear skin of a fresh scar.

"That's not possible, is that possible, no it isn't, is it?" Sherlock thought out loud as John just looked at the scar in curiosity and slight shock.

"Not over night Sherlock, this really isn't possible." John said, his voice concerned and worried.

"Well it obviously is possible." Sherlock scoffed.

"Sherlock I spent 5 years in medical school, I think I know what I'm talking about." John sighed and stood up. "You have a temperature Sherlock, and I need a second opinion, I think we need to go see Molly." John told Sherlock who just huffed like a child.

"She'll only worry." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"She's a pathologist, she might now something I don't." John argued in a no nonsense sort of a way.

"Whatever you say doctor." Sherlock sighed and made an attempt to stand up. But when he did he was hit by a sudden spike of pain that ran up his leg, he collapsed back into his chair and pulled his hands over his face as his temperature rocketed.

"Sherlock." John said in a warning tone.

"I haven't taken drugs John." Sherlock defended and looked up from a now rather red face.

"Fine, but I still want to go to Bart's." John said. "Go get dressed."

Sherlock limped into Molly's lab with the aid of John, his head was spinning and all he could think about were all the things that could be wrong with him. He still had a high temperature and wanted to throw up almost all the time.

"Oh hi John! Sherlock!" Molly said in an upbeat voice as she rounded the corner with a tray of human organs.

"Oh Sherlock you look terrible." She exclaimed and put the tray on the side, she rushed over to see if Sherlock was ok.

"Can I... sit down?" Sherlock asked throw a painful breath and Molly nodded, he walked painfully over to a chair and slumped into it, resting his head on the table almost immediately.

"Molly." John said and looked to the door. "Can I speak with you, outside?" He asked.

"Sure." Molly replied and followed John out the door.

"What is it John?" Molly asked, slightly concerned.

"I just need a second opinion on something." John sighed.

"Well, go on." Molly prompted.

"Well, Sherlock was bitten by a dog last night when he was on a case, he called me this morning and asked if I would properly dress the bite, but when I arrived at the flat he was in a really bad way, high temperature, migraine, and he said that his head was spinning. Then when I looked down at his leg the bite was almost completely healed, I don't know if that's possible." John sighed but when he looked at Molly she had gone completely white.

"I need to talk to Sherlock, alone." Molly said and rushed back into the lab were Sherlock said.

"Sherlock," Molly said as she ran over to site next to him. "Tell me what happened last night!" She said frantically.

"I was bitten by a big dog Molly, I don't really see how that's important." Sherlock sighed, his head still on the table.

"Believe me Sherlock, it really is important. Please just tell me what happened." She almost pleaded.

"I don't know Molly, it was big, bigger than a normal dog, maybe a German Sheppard, I didn't really get a good look." Sherlock sighed and pulled his head up from the table.

"Did you see its eyes?" Molly asked, calmer now.

"I think so, they might have been... yellow... what sort of a dog has yellow eyes?" Sherlock asked, his normal tone back for a short time as his brain kicked into action.

"Sherlock, I don't think it was a dog that attacked you last night." Molly sighed.

"If you say werewolf I will walk right out of here." Sherlock said in a determined voice.

"At least let me do a test." Molly said, a sudden motherly tone in her voice.

"And what's that then, seeing if silver burns my skin, if I can look at the sign of the cross?" Sherlock asked sarcastically.

"No, it's a blood and chromosome test." Molly said to Sherlock.

"How could you possible know that?" Sherlock asked.

Molly didn't have to say anything to Sherlock to explain to him why she knew, she needed to show him. She unbuttoned her floral shirt to revel a large and rather unnerving scar running along her stomach.

oOo

What d'you think, please leave review or maybe even follow the story, that would be great!


	2. Kebabs and Results

oow look at that, another chapter. Not that long but I don't think these chapters will be.

oOo

Sherlock stared at the scar, for the first time a long time he was speechless.

"What is it that you say Sherlock, when you eliminate impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." Molly said to Sherlock as she began buttoning up her shirt.

"I presume that is why you and Tom broke off the engagement." Sherlock asked, finally getting out some words.

"One of the reasons." Molly said and looked at Sherlock, for the first time ever Molly saw true fear in Sherlock's eyes. She gave him the best reassuring look she could.

"What do I tell John?" Sherlock asked and for a second lost his balance, almost falling off his chair but managing not to.

"Wait until you know for certain, and I'd like it if you weren't to say anything about me." She said to him and stood up, walking over to the door to invite John back in.

"Everything alright?" He asked with a concerned look.

"Molly's just over reacting as normal, I'm fine." Sherlock sighed and put his head back on the table.

"No you're not, I'm pretty sure you have blood poisoning." Molly lied to Sherlock. "I'm still taking blood tests." She sighed.

"Wouldn't it be better to just go down to the hospital?" John asked, Sherlock lifted his head and glared at John. "Fine, no hospital." He sighed in defeat.

"Its fine John, I really don't mind doing the test." Molly said to John, who still didn't look convinced.

"Don't you have a wife or something?" Sherlock hinted for John to leave. John glared at Sherlock warningly but he still had his head on the table.

"I don't know why I put up with this." John sighed.

"He's right though John, you should go home, after all you do have a new born to look after." Molly said to him and he gave in, turning around and walking out.

"Do the test." Sherlock groaned and held out his arm that he had been resting his head on as a pillow.

"I'll need a cheek sample, Sherlock." Molly said and watched Sherlock's body sink into the chair and table in protest. Molly just took a needle, a cafeter and two test pots and walked over to Sherlock with them. She rubbed a small area of the skin of his arm with an antiseptic swab and put the cafeter into his arm, she put the needle in and began drawing the blood from Sherlock's arm, but when the blood refused to flow Molly spoke up.

"Sherlock you know if you hold your breath your heart won't pump and I can't draw the blood from your arm." She sighed and saw Sherlock's body move as he exhaled. Molly returned her attention to the needle in Sherlock's arm and this time succeeded in drawing the blood. Molly took two puts of blood and then removed the cafeter from Sherlock's arm, his body tensed slightly but didn't protest and as Molly took a ball of cotton and pressed it to Sherlock's arm. Molly sighed and lent all her weight on her left leg.

"Sherlock I'm sure you can sit up." She sighed and Sherlock lifted his head.

"Just take the cheek swab and let me sleep." Sherlock sighed and held his mouth open.

"I'm starting to think you're just hung-over." Molly sighed and took the swab; she rubbed it along the inside of Sherlock mouth and put it in a specimen pot.

"Now can I go to sleep?" Sherlock asked like a five-year-old and throw his head back down into his arms.

"Whatever you want Sherlock." Molly sighed and moved to the other side of the room to run the tests. A few hours later Sherlock was still asleep and Molly had moved on to her work whilst waiting for the tests. Molly looked up when she heard the door open, her co-worker Jeremy walked in.

"Morning Molly." He said as he walked over.

"How are you Jeremy?" Molly asked as he gave Molly a coffee.

"Better than Anna Thomson." He sighed with an air of humour.

"Who?" Molly asked.

"She was found dead in her flat above a kebab shop, she's been there for mouths, the heat of the shop had slowly been well it was pretty much melting her." Jeremy told Molly, who looked rather unimpressed.

"That's disgusting." Molly said to him.

"That's not the worst bit, Anna was melting through the ceiling and onto the Dona Kebab meat, the owners had no idea." He said and Molly's face pretty much turned green.

"I'm never eating a kebab again." She said, her face covered in a horrified expression.

(That is actually a true story just with changed names, don't eat kebabs!)

"No, neither am I, do I want to know?" Jeremy asked and pointed to the sleeping Sherlock on one of the tables.

"Probably not." She sighed.

"Oh well, I just thought I pop over and tell you that the new microscopes are here." He told her and Molly nodded.

"Thanks Jeremy." Molly said. "Have fun with Anna." She laughed as he left the room. Molly looked at the clock that hung on the wall above the door. Time to find out the test results. Molly finished the tests and printed the results, she printed the DNA results onto a plastic sheet along with Sherlock's DNA that the police had on record. She walked over to him and nudged him with her elbow, he moaned and shifted his body, he moved his head and looked up at Molly with sleepy eyes.

"What?" Sherlock asked, his voice low and sleepy, much to his disgust.

"The results Sherlock, sit up." Molly told him and he rolled his eyes.

"You sound like my mother." He sighed and sat himself up on the chair.

"I can't imagine how she coped." Molly sighed and showed Sherlock the results. Sherlock's brows furrowed as he studied the sheets.

"You see how these two peeks differ?" Molly said to Sherlock as she overlapped the two DNA sheets. "The one on the bottom is the DNA that the police have on record and the one on top is your DNA now, see how this peeks much higher than your original Chromosome and that here there is a whole new one?" Sherlock nodded to the information Molly was giving him.

"And this is a copy of a Wolfs DNA." Molly said and over lapped it with Sherlock's 'new' chromosomes. "These peaks and troughs match up almost exactly Sherlock, I'm sorry to say that whatever attacked you last night was in fact a werewolf." Molly informed Sherlock who just looked at the sheets.

"That's not possible; it goes against almost ever scientific rule." Sherlock sighed and his head fell back into his arms.

"There are a lot of thinks that science doesn't affect Sherlock." Molly told him.

"What happen now?"He asked the pathologist.

"Actually Sherlock, there's a lot you have to do." She told the detective who raised his head and gave a questioning look.

oOo

There is going to be a plot thingy in this, it's not just some little romance thing that doesn't have any body, you know like twilight. No this is going to have an actual story line and not just stupid vampires, no vampires.

Reviews are nice, and it's a scientific fact that if you leave one I'll write quicker.


	3. Dull Questionnaires and Warm feelings

Well that took longer than expected, I do apologize! I've had writers block for almost a month and it only just lifted a few day's ago, and I've been busy with my YouTube channel so I'm sorry for the wait. Also this hasn't been prof read because I'm really lazy but I don't think it's to bad, point anything out if it's there!

oOo

Sherlock sat in his chair wrapped in his bed sheets, nursing a cup of hot sweet tea. Molly sat in John's Chair with a book on her lap, she was sitting upright and had her legs crossed where as Sherlock was hunched over with his legs drown up to his chest. To put it simply Sherlock Holmes felt like shit and wasn't very happy about it. He could feel something in his head that he had never felt before, like a new voice, a new part of him. He didn't like it. All his senses were out, not making any sense to him and constantly changing. Molly shifted in her seat and looked up at Sherlock.

"There are laws we have to follow now Sherlock." She told him. "Things that we_ have_ to do, and there are things you need to know about wolves." Molly said to Sherlock who looked up from his tea.

"Well?" Sherlock asked and hinted for Molly to go on.

"Pretty much every myth and legend about us isn't true, we do have to shift on a full moon but don't lose control. Yes we have stronger senses then we used to but we can't read minds or move things without touching them. Killing the wolf that turned you won't cure you, there is no cure. We don't live forever or never age. Nothing really noticeable will change about you apart from your canine teeth which will be more like that of a wolf, and your eyes may change golden if you get emotional. Other than that as long as you stay in control everything should stay the same." Molly said and watched Sherlock take this all in.

"There's a 'but' isn't there?" Sherlock said.

"Yes." Molly sighed and sat back into the chair. "You can't lose control of your temper, your wolf doesn't need a full moon to surface and believe me if you're not in control things can get very messy." Molly sighed through a shaky breath, she ran her hand through her mousey her. It was longer then Sherlock expected when it wasn't tied up, he decided he liked it better that way.

"On full moons your wolf will surface and you'll shift, most of us look like timber wolves but it depends on who turned you and your genetics. The government have known about wolves since the 60's and have passed laws to protect us, but they have to know about you. There are centres that we have to go to once every six months, it's like an evaluation of sorts, makes sure your safe to be in public on a full moon, if you're not then you have to stay at the centre on full moons until your deemed safe." Molly sat still for a moment, thinking of what next to say, she moved in her seat and began to talk again. "In a few days when you don't feel so ill I'll take you to the centre I use, they'll decide if you're safe or not, I expect you will be." Molly sat back in the chair and opened the book, flicking to a page and handing it to Sherlock. "These are the laws put in place for us to follow as well as all of the normal ones, I suggest you learn them, some of them are quite useful, like the one that gets you out of speeding tickets if it's a full moon or you can prove you were being chased by hunters."

"Hunters?" Sherlock questioned, looking at Molly, everything else seemed perfectly reasonable but _hunter_?

"They'll only really hunt you if you've gone on a killing spree, but some are more 'kill it because of what it is, not who', I've never been at the receiving end but I expect you will be, no offence." Molly blushed and tried her best you look apologetic.

"None taken." Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds, then when he opened them he was laying on the sofa covered in a blanked, he looked at the clock to see that it was 2 o'clock, and as molly had arrived at Baker's Street at 2:30 Sherlock came to the conclusion that it must be AM, not PM. He rolled off the sofa and trudged through to the kitchen where he saw a cooking dish filled with what looked like lasagne; he pulled himself from the door frame and walked over to it. Upon the pasta dish was a note that simple read. "Eat this!" in Molly's hand writing.

After reheating and then eating some of the lasagne Sherlock found that he had actually been rather hungry. His body still protested whenever he moved and his normally fast mind was unbearably slow. After half an hour of failing to think he gave up and give in to his transport, moving to his bed and promptly falling into a deep and pleasant sleep.

The next few days were much in the same, moping around the flat and feeling sorry for himself. But on the third day he felt considerably better and decided that it might be a good time to call Molly and go to the centre thingy. He'd almost got used to the foreign body in his mind but it was very irritating to say the least, and he wasn't too pleased with his new teeth as he kept biting his tongue and cheeks whenever he ate; which he found he had to do much more often than before.

So Sherlock called Molly who arrived at 221B 20 minutes later, she drove him to the centre and walked in with him.

"How was it exactly that you came to know of all this?" Sherlock asked Molly as they walked from the car park.

"I was found after I was attacked, someone took me here." She said simply.

"Oh." Was Sherlock's only response. They walked up to the building that for all pretences looked like a Doctors surgery. Molly walked through the door and Sherlock followed, he noted the different sights and smells and then followed Molly to the main desk, this place really did look like a surgery.

"How can I help you?" The receptionist asked, Sherlock noted that she was human and felt uncomfortable working there.

"Sherlock Holmes would like to be seen by Doctor Kenyon." Molly said to the woman and she typed a few things down onto her iMac and looked back up.

"If you could sit down she'll see you in 10 minutes." She said with a smile, Molly nodded a thanks and walked over to the few seats that we on the other side of the room, Sherlock followed after nodding his own thanks to the woman. After a few minutes of silence Sherlock spoke up.

"So what exactly does this evaluation consist of?" He ask Molly who looked up from the magazine she was reading.

"Mostly just questions." She said honestly. "general health check and all, you'll be fine." She sighed and returned to her magazine, Sherlock on the other hand took it open himself to deduce everyone in the room, although that only took him 3 minutes 43 seconds so he was soon bored. Sherlock let his thoughts wonder and soon he found them focused on Molly, he couldn't pull his thoughts away from how utterly beautiful her eyes were. He was only pulled from that train of thought when he heard his name being called, he looked up to see a Doctor, who to be quite honest looked exactly as you would again a female John Watson. Sherlock looked at Molly for a moment and then got up.

"If you could come this way please, Mr Holmes." Dr Kenyon said pleasantly. Sherlock did and ended up in a office, it looked just like any Doctors office, apart from the pictures of wolves and the gun hidden under her desk.

"So, how are you feeling Mr Holmes, or can I call you Sherlock?" She asked him and waved a hand for him to sit down as she did.

With a sigh Sherlock spoke. "Fine apart from my senses." Sherlock replied honestly. "And I proffer Sherlock."

"Ok then Sherlock, where exactly were you bitten?" The Doctor asked and leaned back in her chair as she relaxed.

"My left leg, I presume you wish to examine to scaring." Sherlock said in his baritone voice.

"Yes, indeed I would, if you could lay down on the bed, please." She said and waved a hand towards to the examining bed with the thin paper covering it. Sherlock did as asked and lay down on the bed, rolling up his trouser leg to revel his leg and scar. Dr Kenyon looked at the scaring, pressing down in certain placed and asking if it hurt, which it didn't. Dr Kenyon then wrote a few things down on the iMac and waited for Sherlock to sit back down in the chair. She looked back up from the screen and spoke to Sherlock.

"Well the scar seems to be fine, I have a few more questions for you and I just need to check your general health and then your free to go." She said pleasantly and sat back in her chair. "First of all Sherlock, when you were bitten what did you do after wards, did you call anyone or go to anyone for help?"

"No, I just went back to the flat and put a dressing on the bite, then went to bed." Sherlock sighed.

"And when you woke up the next day?" Dr Kenyon questioned.

"I called my friend, Dr Watson, then went to Bart's to see Dr Hooper." Sherlock informed her.

"Ah, Molly oH JHhfsbhbgvghvhguv H hfhhffgjgfjgfhhgfhgfhghhggfddvghggyg

poor thing, it took her over a year to accept what she was, I find that it's always the case with doctors and scientists." She sighed. "And what did you say to Dr Watson?"

"Just what had happened, he has no idea of the existence of supernatural beings if that is why you're asking." Sherlock assured the doctor who gave him a thankful smile.

"Ok then Sherlock, good, well I don't think I'll need to ask you any more questions, so I think it's time for the health check." She said simply.

Ten minutes and a very dull questionnaire later Sherlock was deemed safe for the public and allowed to leave.

"Oh, hang on Sherlock, I forgot something!" Dr Kenyon called after him as he walked down the hallway. He turned around to face her.

"I forgot to say, I advise most of my patients to spend their first few full moons at the centre, just so they can get used to it in a safe environment." She breathed, slightly out of breath from the short run from her office.

"Thank you for the advice, Doctor, I'll take it into consideration." Sherlock smiled and continued his way down the hallway and to Molly.

"So?" Molly asked expectantly as she stood up to greet Sherlock.

"Apparently I won't go around killing innocents once a month." He smiled and received a warm chuckle from Molly, he smiled again as he felt a pleasant warmth in his chest that he wasn't accustom to.

"Well I think we should celebrate." Molly smiled and made for the door, Sherlock following close behind.

"I agree, Chinese food?" He asked and Molly nodded. "Good, I know a really-" But Sherlock was cut off by a soft giggle from Molly. "What?" He asked, giving his _not good?_ face.

"No Sherlock, it's just that you, well I don't know how to explain it." She giggled and looked up at Sherlock, who felt that same warmth in his chest again.

oOo

Ooooooooooooooooooow Sherlock what is that feeling in your chest, might it be love maybe? Reviews will make me write more and keep the writers block away, it's fact!


	4. Siblings and Chinese Food

The note I wrote for this chapter was simply "Mycroft finds out and is displeased." so yeah that's what happens. Also I know that is Sherlolly and so far there hasn't really been any, but don't worry because in the next chapter it will start and the main story line will begin.

Thank you to everyone how is following the story and leaving nice review, I'd really love to know what you think of this so far so please leave me a review!

oOo

Sherlock walked up the stairs to 221B after bidding his farewells to Molly at the door. The Chinese takeaway they had planned on visiting was closed so Molly just dropped Sherlock back at the flat and went home. Sherlock pushed the door open and made a face as he saw his brother sitting in his chair, fiddling with his umbrella.

"What?" Sherlock spat as he walked into his flat.

"That's no way to speak to your brother." Mycroft sighed in his normal tone.

"Oh I'm sorry, _how are you brother dear, how lovely to see you?!" _Sherlock asked sarcastically with a badly put on smile and warm tone.

"Fine, thank you." Mycroft smiled sourly. "But I'm not here to talk about me," Sherlock rolled his eyes as he sat down in John's chair, he still thought of it as _John's chair_. "I have been informed by a colleague that you have been conspiring with werewolves," He sighed but then lent forward and glared at Sherlock. "What have you done?!"

The corner of Sherlock's mouth turned into a smile and a soft chuckle escaped him. "I wondered how long it would take you."

"Sherlock!" The older Holmes warned.

He chuckled again. "I'm not conspiring with them, I am one." And he laid back in his chair, _John's chair, _it was much more comfortable then his.

"Why must you do this?" Mycroft sighed in a tired way, scrubbing his face with his left hand.

"Well I hardly had a cho-" Sherlock began but Mycroft interrupted.

"You know that's not what I mean, Sherlock," Mycroft let out a sigh through his nose. "Just... try not to cause too much trouble."

"Can't make any promises." Sherlock waved his hand in a dismissive way.

"I'm serious, Sherlock, if you screw up, I will no longer be able to help you." He said in a warning tone.

"I don't plan on leading some supernatural revolution if that's what you think." The younger of the Holmes brothers scoffed. Sherlock's phone buzzed and he removed it from his jacket.

_Imperial City? - Molly_

The text read and Sherlock felt that same warmth in his chest rising again, he thought for a minute and then relied.

_One of the cheaper takeaways in London, the rice can be dry but I rather like it. -SH_

"Sentiment?" Mycroft asked in a tone that was as close to sibling banter as he could ever get.

"Shut up." Sherlock replied just a little too fast.

"Well well." Mycroft said in the same tone.

"You know something Mycroft?" Sherlock asked his brother. "I don't really care and would very much like for you to leave." Sherlock gave him his signature fake smile and then a glare when Mycroft didn't get up. The government official then rolled his eyes and stood.

"The great Consulting Detective, Sherlock Holmes, a werewolf... I pity humanity." He sighed and turned away towards the door. Sherlock followed him with his eyes until he could no longer see his brother and waited for the sound of the door downstairs. A few minutes after Mycroft left Sherlock's phone buzzed again and he unlocked the screen.

_What would you like then? - Molly_

Sherlock unknowingly smiled at the thought of Molly and then replied quickly to the text.

_Surprise me. -SH_

The door downstairs opened again and Sherlock half expected to hear Mycroft make some snide remark about his undying love for Molly, but instead he heard the familiar sound of John's footfall on the stairs; then the slightly less familiar sound of Mary's footfall. A few seconds later John, Mary and little baby Watson appeared in the doorway of 221B. Daine (baby Watson, also yes I did google similar female names to Dean because of the supernatural reference) had an enormous smile on her face as Mary cradled her in her arms.

Sherlock stood up and smiled at his old flat mate.

"You were sitting in my chair." John voiced in slight hurt, Sherlock just rolled his eyes.

"Nice to see you to John." Sherlock laughed as John and Mary walked in and sat next to each other on the sofa, Mary softly started to bounce Daine on her knee. John gave him an expected look and Sherlock just sighed out of his nose and slumped down into his chair.

"When I arrived back 10 minutes ago Mycroft was sitting in my chair so I had to borrow yours, not that you ever use it anymore." He said with a wave of his hand and a roll of the eyes.

In order to try and stop Sherlock and her husband having a domestic Mary asked Sherlock why Mycroft had been at 221B

"So why was Mycroft bothering you this time?"

"Accusing me of things, trying and failing to make me do as he wishes, just being in his presences _bothers_ me, so I asked him to leave." Sherlock said simply.

"What exactly was he accusing you of?" Mary asked in a curios voice.

"Leading a rebel army to overthrow the current government." That wasn't a lie, just not all the truth.

_How does chow mein sound? - Molly _

"Molly's ordering Chinese takeaway, want some?" Sherlock asked and waited for John and Mary to have a dull conversation about it.

"Don't see why not." Mary chirped and smiled at John. "What are you getting?"

"Chow mein." Sherlock informed them.

"Sounds nice." John said and settled into the chair and smiled when Daine started to make sweet bubbling noises.

_Sounds good, get some for John and Mary as well. -SH _

"How are you feeling now?" John asked with a slight air of concern.

"Fine." Sherlock shrugged.

"Have you any idea what might have happened to your leg, I mean it's not normal for a wound to heal over night." John asked with a slightly worried tone, although he couldn't help but laugh when Daine blew a soft raspberry noise and then giggled in delight at the sound.

"Molly came up with something but I wasn't really listening." That was true, when Molly had first told him he was well, a werewolf, he hadn't really been listening . Sherlock knew he had to choose his words carefully as unlike John, Mary was wiser to when he was lying.

In response John just rolled his eyes and started conversation, they ended up talking about the case that Sherlock had been investigating before he was bitten. It had been a simple stab and run but as always the police were incapable of doing their own jobs and couldn't work out who had done, although after five minutes Sherlock was chasing around London tracking down the stabber. But then the Gods changed their minds and decided to have Sherlock taken down that night.

Just as Sherlock was finishing explaining the case the door downstairs opened then closed and Molly appeared in the doorway carrying rather heavy looking bags.

_You should help with those. _ The new and quite irritating part of Sherlock's mind told him, he ignored it. Molly hurried over to the coffee table and placed the bags down.

"They gave us free fortune cookies," Molly said to Sherlock and then turned to John and Mary, and obviously to little Daine who she loved so dearly. "Hello Daine, you've grown so much since the last time I saw you." She said in a happy and very friendly way, but not that stupid baby voice people insist on using when addressing infants. Sherlock only rolled his eyes and stood, walking over to the kitchen to get plates and trays, why did Mrs Hudson have to visit her sister, when she was away Sherlock had to do all the boring things.

And that was that, the five of them all sat in 221B all eating takeaway and chatting, even little Daine had a few noodles. John joked how Sherlock was actually eating without being forced to, and then received some very rude hand gestures from said man. Sherlock was then scolded by John and Mary for doing such things in front of their child, much to the amusement of Molly and Daine. And then John and Mary received a lecture from Sherlock explaining that a child at the age wouldn't be influenced by it. Then Sherlock proceeded to deduce all the fortune cookies, but being the show off that he is he read his deductions out in actually Chinese. Then baby Watson's head started to nod and the little family thought it best to go back home and put their pride and joy to bed.


	5. Strange feelings and accusing Detective

Well I do apologize for the wait, can't rush a master piece and all that... thank you to all the wonderful people who followed and reviewed:)

oOo

Sherlock found himself sitting on the sofa in his dressing-gown trying to find an explanation for the warmth he kept feeling in his chest. After all his Google search results told him that he most certainly had a heart condition, he decided to change his angle. Then after changing his angle another five times he finally found a blog, it was well written and nice to read, _unlike John's_, Sherlock thought to himself. Although the information that this blog contained was very far from _nice_, it seemed to describe all of his symptoms perfectly. All of the symptoms of being in love. _Love._ Or he'd been drugged, but he would have noticed that.

_'She is very beautiful.' _ The new voice in Sherlock's mind said, he had begun to refer to it as his wolf now.

_'Shut up!' _ Sherlock thought back as he frantically tried to find another explanation.

_'There isn't another explanation, you're in love.' _ His wolf almost teased, the tone a smart ass childish voice that annoyed him. _'Once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable must be the truth.' _

Just as Sherlock was about to reply to his wolf his phone began to ring, he sat up and pushed the laptop from his knees and walled over to the table where his phone was. He found a part of himself wanting it to be Molly, but quickly pushed it down. _Sherlock Holmes in love, how ridiculous._ He picked up his phone and read the caller ID, it read Lestrade and a small part of him rose at the thought of a new case. He flicked the screen and answered his phone.

"What have you got Lestrade?" Sherlock asked without even a hello.

"Nice to talk to you to Sherlock." Lestrade sighed in his usual sarcastic manner. "Women found dead by her husband, no sign of a struggle but she was found with her own hands around her throat as if she couldn't breathe." He spoke down the phone.

"Where?" Sherlock asked, which was normally his way of saying _I'll take the case._

"Brentford, Ealing Road." Lestrade informed, Sherlock was about to hang up when Lestrade spoke up again. "Oh and we've got a new Forensics Officer, so try to be nice."

"Can't make any promises." Sherlock said and then hung up and went to his room to get dressed.

The taxi journey was dull at best, Sherlock had considered calling John but his wolf told him that he would be at work and now that he had little Daine to care for a couldn't afford to go chasing murderers around London. His wolf suggested calling Molly but Sherlock hatefully ignored it and returned to thinking about the sciences behind the werewolf, which at that current moment in time he could for the world work out. He would think of something logical eventually.

The taxi stopped at the end of Ealing Road and Sherlock paid the driver, he spotted Lestrade learning against his car and started walking towards him.

_'Something isn't right.' _His wolf said. Sherlock ignored it and spoke to Lestrade.

"So what have we got?" Sherlock asked.

"Husband went to work as usual but when he came home for lunch he found his wife dead." Lestrade supplied.

"Where is she?" Sherlock asked and walked under the police tap.

"Front room, the husband is in the kitchen." Lestrade followed Sherlock to the house that was swarming with police.

"Has he been questioned yet?"

"Not yet, he's not dealing with it very well." Lestrade sighed.

"Would you?" Sherlock asked.

"Freak." Donavon greeted with a death stare.

"Stopped scrubbing Anderson's floor I see." Sherlock said and smiled sourly. Lestrade just rolled his eyes and walked into the house, followed by Sherlock. As Sherlock followed Lestrade down the small hall to the room the woman was in the smell of death hit him, the sour scent of decay mixed with the bitter smell of fear and almost spicy scent of panic. Sherlock had no idea how he put the different smells to the different things, but that wasn't in the front of his mind at the current moment.

Lestrade disappeared into a room and Sherlock walked in, in the middle of the living room was a women. She was about average height with shout and very curly red hair, slightly overweight and was dieting before her death. As Lestrade had said on the phone, her left hand was covering her throat and a pained expression was held on her face.

Another smell hits him, vegetation of some description, he couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly, but definitely something in the carrot family. He walked into the room further and studied it in greater detail. It looked like any ordinary home. Offensive floral wallpaper, Victorian fire place with a mantel piece filled with pictures and trinkets, a few photo frames and paintings hung from the walls and antique furniture was cluttered everywhere. Nothing out of the ordinary, except one thing, a single tea cup sitting on a coffee table only half drunk; for some reason it stuck out to Sherlock and he walked over to it. Picking it up he pulled it strait to his nose, although it was almost certainly Earl Gray tea it didn't smell like it, it had that same almost carroty smell to it, but much stronger than before. He pulled a face and put it down.

"Anything?" Lestrade asked.

"Something wrong with the tea, possibly poisoned." He paused for a moment as a though occurred to him. "Most likely hemlock, considering the fact that she almost definitely suffocated and clearly died quickly." Sherlock deduced.

"Hemlock?" Lestrade asked in slight disbelief. "Isn't that a bit fairly tale?" He said, the sarcasm creeping back into his voice.

"Not at all, it's a very effective killer, almost undetectable in a toxicology report and grows all over the place, in fact I noticed some in Hyde Park a few weeks back." Sherlock said in his trade mark baritone voice.

"Almost undetectable?" Lestrade questioned.

"Not commonly tested for anymore, unless it's suspected as the course of death it wouldn't even be considered." Sherlock replied, he turned and faced the women lying dead on the floor, he studied every little detail about her and came to his conclusion. "I need to speak to the husband." He said simply and walked out of the room. He found the husband easily enough, it was a very small house and it wouldn't take a genius to navigate it.

"Mr Webb." Sherlock said to the poor broken man sobbing at the kitchen table.

"Y... yes." The man looked up at Sherlock with a tear stained face and red bloodshot eyes.

"I need to ask you some questions about you and your wife." Sherlock said and the man nodded for him to go on. "This morning before you left for work what did you do?"

"W... what I always do, showered, made myself some breakfast, then Sarah some tea, I don't understand why are you asking me this?" He asked in a shaky voice.

"Just standard questions Mr Webb, no need to worry." Sherlock said in his best _nice guy _voice. Mr Webb calmed down a bit. "And have you noticed anything off with your wife recently?"

"No, not at all." He didn't make eye contact and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Lying.

"May I ask where you were yesterday?" Sherlock asked.

"Um, I was at work as usual, I think I went to Hyde park on my lunch break, but that could have been the day before, or last week or oh my God I don't know," He let out a pained sob. "Sarah, who did this?" He asked no one in particular.

"I think I might have an idea." Sherlock said and turned to see that Lestrade was leaning against the door frame, he nodded for him to continue. "You _did _notice your wife acting strangely so four days ago, instead of going to work you waited for her to leave the house and then you followed her, you discovered she was having an affair, with your brother no less. Being the coward that you are instead of confronting her and filing for a divorce you decided to kill her and claim her life insurance, on your lunch break yesterday you noticed that hemlock grows in Hyde Park and realised that it would be a near perfect way to kill her, I say near perfect because you got court. Then this morning as well as your wife's ordinary tea you added the hemlock leaves you collected the day before." Sherlock said smugly and smirked as the man's face dropped in horror. Lestrade nodded his thanks to Sherlock and stepped forwards.

"George Webb I am arrested you for the murder of your wife Sarah Webb, you do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be taken down and given in evidence." Lestrade said as an officer cuffed the sobbing man and escorted him out of the building.

After most of the police officers and forensics team had left Lestrade wondered up to Sherlock who was sitting on a bench on the other side of the road, texting.

"John said you've been ill." Lestrade pretty much asked Sherlock, who looked up from his phone and at Lestrade.

"I was, hardly important, it takes more than mild flu to stop me." Sherlock lied to Lestrade, who by the look on his face didn't believe a word of what he had just said.

"John mentioned your leg." Lestrade inquired, an almost accusing tone in his voice.

"A dog bit it, whilst I was out getting information for a case you sent me, but it didn't break the skin or leave any lasting damage." Sherlock lied again, and Lestrade's face took on the same expression as before.

"And you didn't think it was odd that after it attacked you, you felt so ill?" Lestrade asked, now sounding even more accusing, as if he knew something but was trying to get it out of Sherlock.

"No, I was too busy have the flu to really think it over." Sherlock almost spat, why was Lestrade being so prying and accusing all of a sudden? _'maybe he knows? maybe he's one of those hunter's Molly told you about?' _The wolf interjected, making Sherlock suddenly very uneasy. 'No, don't be stupid' Sherlock reassured himself.

Lestrade's face took on an even more accusing expression and opened his mouth to say something but Sherlock interrupted him. "I'd expect this from John, or Mrs. Hudson, but not from you, why do you suddenly care so much?" Sherlock asked Lestrade in his classic baritone and stony face.

"I..." Lestrade started but couldn't seem to fine the right words.

"Well Lestrade, out with it." Sherlock sighed and let irritation fall into his voice, he could feel his wolf pacing in his mind, clearly not liking the situation.

"Um..." He still couldn't find the right words. Sherlock only rolled his eyes and stood up.

"I'll be at Baker's Street if you fine another case that your team are incapable of solving." Sherlock sighed and walked towards the main street in order to get a cab, he could have easily walked back, it wasn't fare, but he could smell rain in the air. Odd, how he could actually smell it in the air.

But that wasn't on the front of his mind, the fact that Lestrade might know something was incredibly unsettling, the fact that something could to Molly was even more so. And there it was again, the thought of something happening to Molly, out of everything that had happened in the past few days the one thing that kept making its way back into Sherlock's train of thought was the mousy little pathologist that worked in St Bart's Hospital. What was happening to him?

oOo

Please please please leave a review, that way I right more...


End file.
